My whole life had lead up to this day. I’d been born for this sole purpose, sired, birthed, raised, taught, and trained to be God’s concubine. I would join him in heaven, coiled in the tight embrace of his worldly avatars. I’d dreamed the ceremony near every night, dreamed of what waited beyond the altar, in the depths of his holy temple. I, as every other honor gift, had met the avatars, fed them, let them come to know our scents and warmth. I was not afraid of them, not like those from outside the temple were. To them, the avatars were vengeful implications, evidence of God’s wrath.

Before the altar I knelt, hands upon it’s smooth stone. It was etched in scale patterns, worn slick by a thousand years of caresses just like mine. I laid my brow to it, smelled the spicy scent of serpent, and relaxed into the adept care of the priestess. I’d been bathed already, groomed thoroughly inside and out. Fed on nothing but medicated milk and honey for a week until my waters were as clear as a spring and my bowels were as empty as a chasm. The discomfort had passed into a strange enlightened euphoria, and now I felt only giddy.

Warm hands parted my thighs as I knelt. A bottle was uncorked and a dribble of something poured into a latex glove clad palm. That palm cupped my sex, and the sharp sting of the anointment began. I shuddered with the delicious pain and what it meant. Into my depths she slid her fingers to massage the ichor of motherhood into my tender skin. The burn faded some as the alcohol evaporated, but left behind a faint tingling itchiness and a spreading warmth.

I did not listen to the incantations, nor did I pay the gathered crowd or cameras any thought. My mind was fixed upon the cave between my legs, and my eyes were fixed upon the cave before me. I had one purpose in life, one honor bound duty. My family had given me up at three years old, weaned, but the purpose had been from the moment my mother had conceived. There was only one purpose for a fourth child of a lesser house.

My breath quickened as the priestess slipped her gloved fingers in around the plug in my rectum, and withdrew it. A dribble of ichor was poured straight in, then drooled out again from my gaping hole. I felt a heady rush as the alcohol dissolved into my bloodstream and the itch of the ichor set in. I clenched involuntarily around her fingers as she massaged my aching bowel in a circle. My clench failed to even grip those fingers, she could have still yet pushed two fists inside without trouble. Perfection.

Her hands retreated, the bottle glugged, then both palms reached about my head and cupped my cheeks. I felt the pungent ichor coat my face. Her fingers worked it in a circle about my mouth until I parted my lips for her. It burned harshly against my tongue, tasted sour and putrid, and left that ever-present itch that was driving my lower half to madness. I tilted my head back, eyes closed, and waited for the moment. A hand retreated, then returned with the rest of the bottle. She tipped it to my lips, and I let it flood my mouth with the pungent acridness. It was so familiar, as if I had tasted it a thousand times, but I could not place it.

I swallowed. My stomach rebelled but there was nothing to vomit up. I gagged for a moment as the bottle was held in place, as the last drop of the ichor was fed to me. I swallowed again, gagged, heaved, and my eyes watered fiercely as the fiery fluid filled my sinuses. I’d never drank alcohol before, I was too young, but I couldn’t imagine why anyone would wish to! Then the itching set in, lips to stomach, into my sinuses, my nose, even my eyes. It felt like vapors were pouring from every orifice, vapors that irritated and tormented.

As I struggled to maintain composure, the words finally sank in from behind me, “And bound she shall be, cast into the depths of agony and misery, so that she may greet God cleansed of all worldly corruption.”

I whispered, “I don’t need to be bound, I promise, I’ll be good.”

“Hush child,” the priestess replied and patted my cheek. She set the bottle aside and gave me a kindly smile, “You cannot harm God, but his Avatars are flesh and blood. They know their purpose, but in a panic you might strike out. Should you harm them, you will forever be denied Him. You would not risk it, would you?” She was right, I knew she was right, but I so wanted to wrap my arms around his avatar and nestle close. I shook my head no, in response at last, no rebellion in my heart.

The symbol of the infinite was lowered from the ceiling, two serpents in coital coil producing a sideways figure eight. It was made of stainless steel, even more intricately designed with scale patterns than the altar, and of course, the four shackles waiting to close upon my limbs. I stretched one arm out willingly, propped upon the altar with the other. Strong hands placed it in place and locked it over my upper arm, just above my elbow. The metal closed with a loud permanent snap, it would take a specialized pair of crowbars to open it again, impossible with my arm intact.

I let my weight rest upon my right arm and the symbol. It held firm, ten to twenty times my own mass. I raised my left for them, and closed my eyes as the metal closed a second time. My right leg was taken up, and the knee pulled open, ankle hooked over the bottom of the metal serpent. The ankle first, locked in place, then my knee pulled to the side and locked down as well. My other leg followed. My pelvis strained as it was pulled open, the shackles slightly too wide for my short legs. It hurt a little, but that was alright; pain would be over soon, suffering would bring purity, and God would welcome me.

The chains rattled as the symbol was lifted up again, above the altar. I was turned slowly until I faced the crowd, my naked body on display for the corrupt masses. I saw lust in so many eyes, amusement in others, mockery, disgust. I watched a man reach into his shorts and pull his erection out and wave it at me. This was my purpose, to redeem the foulness of our people. I smiled to them, to the man and his little cock, to their scorn and their lust. I smiled and welcomed it into me. I would be pure in the end, I would surrender to God and serve him for all eternity. Why not take a little of their corruption with me into the abyss?

The final words were spoken and the crowd cheered. The large displays came on, though showed only me from multiple angles. I hadn’t even noticed the tiny pinhole cameras embedded in the symbol. My suffering would be witnessed all the way down until the end. I closed my eyes, centered myself, and tried to calm my panicked breaths. It didn’t work. As the chains moved again and the symbol was dropped slowly down into the cavern beyond the altar, I felt the itching discomfort, fixated upon it, it grew in my mind until I wanted to scream.

I opened my eyes again, to distract, but all I could see was infinite darkness and a single spot of dim light above, shrinking rapidly. Five hundred meters I descended into the depths. The cheering faded from a roar to a whisper, then vanished. The air conditioned temple atmosphere gave way to hot, humid air, and an earthy sourness. Above me I heard the chain creak and groan under it’s strain, there hadn’t been a failure in decades, but the thought entered my mind none the less. I was alone with God down here, witnessed by everyone above, but I myself had no one else to turn to now.

Quietly I began to pray, nothing important or profound. Health and well being for those I cared about, protection until the end of my suffering, and to meet with him at last and surrender to the embrace of his loving coils. My sex clenched involuntarily at the thought, for I knew, I knew what my purpose would be for him. I was his concubine, made to satisfy him through eternity and take the boredom from his mind. It wasn’t a corrupt thought, It was my purpose after all! So what if the fantasy made my stomach quiver and sex water?

The descent halted at last, my time had come. I opened my eyes, but saw nothing, heard nothing. I hung in the void for the longest time, just waiting, not even praying anymore. Then, at last, I heard a scuff not far off, followed by a hiss of breath. One of the avatars had come for me. I trembled with excitement and fear. I had never been told this part, never told what they would do to me. Only suffering, I would suffer for them, until the corruption was purged, until I surrendered my soul to God. For the first time I had an inkling of the fear others felt for God’s avatars, but I pushed it aside.

A head rose before mine, I couldn’t see, but I could feel it’s presence, a something in the nothingness. A cold tongue flicked over my lips, breath hissed out, drew in. I wished I could see, was it one I’d known? Was it a stranger? His heavy weight suddenly landed upon my shoulder as he coiled up into the symbol, climbing atop. He was so huge, the whole symbol shifted under his weight and the chain clanked above me. He was thicker around than my head, and long. No, I had never met this one, I’d never even imagined an avatar so large.

The serpent coiled into a tangled nest above and around me, hanging with me from the symbol. His cold scales slid up my cheek, shoulder, back, down my side, then up between my thighs. His tongue flickered as he explored, as he enwrapped me, but he did not squeeze. He seemed very interested, but not aggressive. Where was the suffering? He was heavy and my shoulder was beginning to ache, but that was hardly…

A cold wet cleft met my cheek and his tail curled up under my face to pin my head against his body. That cleft swelled, and filth smeared into my nose and lips. I gagged, but to my confused shock the taste was… familiar. The ichor, I tasted ichor. I shuddered in disgust as his flesh emerged and smeared into my face. Here it was, this was my purpose after all but… but he was at the wrong end! I to correct him, but the moment I parted my lips to speak he forced one of his budding members between my lips.

Flexible scale like barbs caught at my tongue and the inside of my cheek, scraped over my teeth. The sourness filled my mouth, the same sourness that the priestess had smeared into it minutes before. I gagged just the same, my stomach heaved, empty. I shuddered involuntarily and forced my lips to close again, and began to suckle upon him. This is what he wanted, so I gave it to him, I surrendered.

His coils tightened on me, dragged my body up against the metal of the symbol, and pinned me in place. His tail end twitched and bucked back and forth with a slow steady rhythm of bestial lust. It made sense suddenly, I wasn’t tasting him before, but a female, a female in season. They had milked her cloaca and filled that bottle with her fluids, then filled me with her. To the avatar atop of me, I smelled like just another female snake in the midst of her season.

I played a long, what else could I do? If my mouth smelled like her cloaca, he was going to use it like her cloaca. I swallowed as he grew, as his barbed flesh slithered to the back of my throat, reaching with each buck. I tasted blood, just a little bit, then more as his barbs scratched and gouged at tongue, lips, and gums. It was okay, it was right. I was to suffer. So I suffered for him, suffered as I gave him pleasure. My cuts and scratches itched, but I ignored it as best I could.

Or was I doing it wrong? I focused on the pain, on the itching, on the burning. I pushed my face into his filthy vent and inhaled, retched, inhaled again, and again. God was watching, my people were watching. I surrendered to him and worshiped him with God’s name. I worshiped him with my lips and was gifted in return with a sticky, cloying mouthful of serpent semen. I swallowed, the cold slimy fluid filled my stomach and… and was not rejected. I could only grin in satisfaction into his messy sex. Then he switched members and started all over again.

He used my face for hours, one member, then another, back and forth until he hung limp from the symbol and could barely raise himself to thrust. When he was done, he slithered away and left me alone again, draped just as exhausted as he. My mouth was a mass of cuts and bruises, my throat and sinuses packed with coagulating snake cum and waste. I felt disgusting, used, and exultant all the same. My purpose was being fulfilled at last and soon I would be serving God. Would god wish to use my mouth as well? I hoped I was up to his standards.

I woke an unknowable period later to a quartet of tongues flicking over my flesh. I hadn’t heard them approach, but now the symbol swayed and jumped as they slithered atop it and began to coil around me. I shuddered with anxious anticipation and fear. My mouth was dry and gummy still, and there was an ache in it that went deeper than the fine scratches and gouges. The thought of going through that again made my heart thunder and stomach clench. There was only one way out however for me, only one option. I surrendered. My parted legs relaxed as a vent mashed into the cleft of my rear and a barbed member sank itself into my gaped bowels. A second brought his vent to my face, and I began to lick at his filthy orifice even before his members began to emerge.

The third attempted to force himself into my anus as well, and the two struggled for a moment until each got one member into me, stretching my poor hole beyond all of my training. I sobbed aloud and arched, but was too well secured to pull away, it only gave the other easier access. His phallus spilled into my open maw with a splatter of waste. He bucked hard and slashed my tongue open along the right side, bucked again and forced himself into the back of my throat, where his barbs caught between my tonsils and drew blood. He mashed his vent into my mouth as he forced himself down my throat. The inner flesh emerged to swell between my lips, sealing. Then, to my utter horror, he released his bowels right into my mouth. With no where for it to go, I swallowed and swallowed, giving him pleasure as he made me suffer.

Behind me, the two were writhing and squirming in and out, not in time with one another. It was a staccato of thrusts and ripping withdrawals that left my sphincter in bloody pain. The fourth at last positioned himself, the only one who figured out the proper place for his seed. I shuddered as that barbed, filth soaked flesh mashed into my vulva and he attempted to penetrate my vaginal passage. In the technical sense, I was a virgin, I’d never had anything more than fingers and tools inside of me, but he found no hymen or other impedement, and my well seasoned muscles clenched down on him like a vice, even as his barbs tore at my inner walls just the same.

I cleaned my mouth out for the second time, swallowing the swill down to fill my stomach. I waited for a third helping, but instead he withdrew and thrust with one violent sway, and began to ejaculate. Unlike the first, his load sprayed from his vent to cover my lips and chin. I licked at it, channeled his flow into my mouth, and attempted to swallow. His sour musky seed was a vast improvement over the filth he had forcefed me, I let it bathe every corner of my mouth, saturate, and wash away the other flavors and scents he’d visited upon me.

My vaginal passage was next to be filled. I clenched and milked him so expertly, he climaxed within a minute, and switched members to continue. The two in my rear continued to buck erratically and struggle with one another, even as a fifth serpent came to visit and tangled up with the other four. My mouth was filled again, and I suckled his member clean before he had a chance to hilt in my throat. The fifth pressed his vent between my creased shoulder blades and began to masturbate himself into my back. They all wanted me, all wanted inside of me, one way or another.

I opened my eyes upon the darkness and stared as if I could see through the scaled underbelly that fucked my throat to the mind beyond. But they were as distant to me now as the people above. There was only one companion for me, “God,” I prayed silently as a jet of semen splashed into my colon, “I do this to be pure, to be yours for eternity. I will suffer anything for your grace, and to earn my place in your embrace.” Another splash of serpent cum erupted between my shoulders and ran down the back of my neck, collar, and dribbled off the ends of my breasts as they swayed to the chaotic rhythm of serpent lust.

A sixth and seventh joined, an eighth. Each hole was stuffed with at least one phallus, my anus three. I lost coherent thought as the pair of filth soaked members stretched my jaw painfully and their ejaculate threatened to drown me. Pleasure bloomed as the pair in my sex matched pace and drove me over the edge of orgasm. I climaxed for His pleasure through the avatars and writhed helplessly from the symbol of his love. The steel mating serpents that held me, perfect representation of my fate. I cried out a gargled sound as I climaxed, and felt both serpents release in unison into my depths. I wished more than anything that their seed would bare fruit, but I knew better.

One finished in my stretched open bowels, his release drooled out to splatter upon the ground below. My stomach was swollen now, watery, and ached with cramping. I continued to swallow the swill I was fed, mingled urine, shit, and delicious seed. This was my fate, this was what I was here for…

No! no I was here to be purified, to suffer, to surrender myself cleansed of corruption into God’s love! I felt confused, my mind hazy and thoughts sluggish. I felt so cold, the cold bodies of the snakes were sapping heat from me with every caress. Cold waste and seed drooled from my body, and even the heat of the pit did not seem to reach me. There were more now, I could feel half a dozen barbed members dragging over my naked body or trying to force themselves in between the other coils to enter my orifices. So many who needed pleasure, who wanted to sire a clutch in my womb.

A fourth managed to wedge himself into my anus, and I felt something give way with an audible wet snap. Blood ran down my inner thigh to dribble to the floor from my knee. I shuddered hard with that shock of pain, doubly so when the fourth withdrew to thrust, and dragged his barbs through the newly opened rip, sawing against raw nerves. The quartet in my anus never reached a matched pace, but they sawed away at me until my whole body was taut and trembling like a violin string played by four bows.

A third forced his way into my sex, and it to began to strain and stretch. Tougher than my rear, I struggled to contain them, muscles clenching hard to keep myself whole. They thrust together, all three, a common chord against the discordant mess of my bowels. Barbs sawed away from both ends though, and I was so stretched, so tightly clenched, that I felt skin beginning to tear as well, not just scratches now. I was coming apart at the seams.

Hours passed. There were too many to count, the floods of ejaculate and waste that ran in rivulets from my body, drenched me head to toe. My hair was a matted mess upon my scalp, my holes ruined, bloody gashes into my body. My lips were swollen, gums flayed bare, the two front teeth from my upper jaw had been torn out, and my right cheek had split half from the corner of my mouth half way to my ear. I was ruined. I was devastated. I was suffering well on my way to purity.

One by one the avatars of God slithered away. When I was at last alone again, I hung limp from my bondage and silently cursed the temple above. They had never lied to me, not truly, but this… I wept openly as wounds scabbed over and festered. The air felt like ice against my fevered hide, infection had set in. Every scratch was a burning ember, every tear an inferno. The itch I had felt as the ichor was slathered into my depths was nothing compared to the hell I felt now. I wanted desperately to reach down and claw into my own vulva and tear the flesh out, but I too well restrained.

I woke again from a fever wrought nightmare. God had accepted me, but not the loving God of my faith, a cruel, heartless god. The guilt I felt for having dreamed it, overwhelmed me, shamed me. I could never be pure if I didn’t have faith! I screamed—but it came out as a death rattle. My breaths came in great sobs, but my voice was gone. I couldn’t even pray aloud! I was doomed, destined to destruction but not purity. I thrashed as I wept, and suddenly recalled her words, in panic I might strike out… She had been right, oh had she been right.

A serpent came again before I slept. The cold barbed cocks were like ice water poured into my fevered and swollen folds. When he penetrated my sex, I broke. Pain, pleasure, sensations beyond description overwhelmed me. He ravaged that infected flesh, skin sloughed off, and tissue was bared for his filth and seed. I shuddered in silent agony and ecstasy. “God,” I cried, “Take me! I am yours!” and climaxed upon the avatar’s final thrust. His seed blasted into me, scoured my soul clean, and left me pure. I felt it. I knew it. I knew the moment it happened. There was a shock that went through my system like a gong being struck.

My mouth gaped aloud as I cried in silence. He thrust one last time, then withdrew. Blood and semen splattered to the floor, the only sound I could hear. The only sound. I took in a breath, it whistled in my swollen throat and lungs, but… My heart had stopped.

The world drifted away quickly. Darkness to a different darkness, an inner darkness that threatened to blot out my very existence. I prayed, prayed so hard, believed with every fiber of my being. Something sparked behind my eyes, something in the darkness that I could not describe. Then I was gone, I felt myself go out like a candle blown, and only the wisp of self identity like smoke remaining briefly, then no more.

-

My eyes opened upon brilliant silver light, so bright it should have hurt, but I felt no pain. My gaze focused and I stared up into a pair of reptilian eyes, dark as night, but full of compassion and love. Nothing like the avatars, no common snake. “God,” I whispered, my voice worked. I felt pain free, healthy, and so so very comfortable.

He shifted about me, I was draped in his heavy coils, fully embraced in his love. His reptilian smile formed, and I knew everything was well, everything was right in the world. “Holy fuck was that hot. You literally died cumming, hah! Such a good bitch, can’t wait to break you all over again.” He raised his head and looked up to someone I couldn’t see, “Give her ten minutes, then put her back in the sim. This time make me twice as big, I want to feel her pelvis crack when I rape her ass!”

“G-God?” I blubbered, confused, my heart beginning to break, my mind already fracturing with disorientation and confusion.

He stood up, stretched, a normal human. Where had his snake eyes gone? Where were his scales? He raised a foot and placed it upon my chest, pinning me to the floor. I stared up at him in such utter confusion until he aimed his flaccid penis at my face and I recognized him. He was the one from the crowd, the one who had waved his dick at me…

Then his urine hit my face, stinging in my eyes, making my nose wrinkle, “Open wide,” he told me, and for some reason I did, obedient, subservient. The sour taste, so familiar, was his. The ichor, the snake cloaca, it all tasted like him. I swallowed, my stomach clenched with nausea, but I swallowed again and again. Where was I? Where was God? I had to get to the ceremony!

Above me, he laughed as he drained his bladder down my open throat. With a couple of flicks, he dried himself off and took his weight off me, a moment later other people had me by my arms and legs, dragging me bodily towards a dark hole. No, not a hole, a cave, a cave where I would be purified… “God… Please…” I’d failed, I wasn’t pure, I had failed, and had to try again, I had to be cleansed of corruption. The cave opened up below me, and I was laid upon it’s soft interior, then it closed around me once more… once more? I had been here before…

The world fell away, confusion was gone. I had one purpose, my whole life had been leading up to this moment. I leaned forward upon the scaled altar and relaxed as the priestess laid her hand to the back of my neck. “It is time child, time for you to Surrender to God.”

I smiled up at her, so full of hope, so excited. She brought a cup to my lips, full of something bitter and foul, “Drink of his ichor child, drink deep.” I drank. It seemed some how familiar though I couldn’t place it’s flavor. My stomach recoiled, empty, disgust filled me, yet I drank obediently. This was my purpose… I couldn’t wait!

07/22/2021

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